


Harsh Light

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: The Avengers
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And Steve, sir?”</p>
<p>Right beneath the opening, Tony stops. </p>
<p>“Tell him-“</p>
<p>The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smile. “Oh, he knows."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harsh Light

It was actually shaping up to be an okay evening until everything had gone into lockdown and Dr. Doom’s face had said over every radio, TV and computer screen:

“In twelve minutes, Manhattan will be incinerated.”

All in all, it kind of puts a damper on the whole night.

There is a second where the entire room lets it sink in, then Steve is on his feet:

“Get Coulson on the phone, te-“

“Already here,” Coulson says, already digging out his cellphone as he enters the lounge and raising it to his ear. “I’ll get someone to trace the signal-“

“There are Doombots on 83rd,” Natasha barks as she looks down over it.

“How many?”

“At least a dozen, and there’s more coming.”

Steve nods. “Thor, Hulk, go and do crowd contr- where’s Tony?”

Jarvis’s voice comes from the ceiling, like it always does. “He is locked in his workshop, Captain.”

“Well, override it,” Steve says.

There is a pause that if Jarvis wasn’t an AI, Steve would think was hesitant.

“I have been instructed not to do that, Captain.”

Steve halts, his hand curled around his shield. “What d- get Tony on screen, now.”

For a second, nothing happens, and Steve opens his mouth to ask again, but then a screen to the far side of the room flickers to life.

It has obviously re-winded a few seconds- Dr. Doom is saying, “-attan will be incinerated.”

On the screen, Tony blinks. “Well, fuck. Jarvis, rewind and pause as he’s saying ‘incinerated.’”

The computer screen he’s watching reels backwards and stops.

“Now, is that just me,” Tony says, “or does that look like the same shit he was using last time?”

“It does seem like that, sir,” Jarvis says on the screen. “Steve is requesting your presence, sir.”

Tony pauses as he looks more closely at the screen. His expression flickers.

“Don’t-” his voice has changed. “Don’t let him in.”

Now everyone is staring at onscreen-Tony, who is looking at his own screen with one hand on his arc reactor.

“Him specifically, sir, or-?”

“No, no, don’t let anyone in, give me a second,” Tony says. And then, more slowly, “There’s no way that anyone else can shut it off, is there?”

Jarvis says, “I believe not, sir.”

Tony nods carefully. Then, “Jarvis, do we have any spare cores?”

Steve feels it like a punch in the gut.

_Fuck, Tony, what are you doing-_

Again, Jarvis pauses. “I believe you used the last one yesterday, sir- you said you would build another one when you had the time. May I ask what you are planning?”

“It’d burn itself out with an energy overload,” Tony says. “His machine, I mean. Hey, can you get a trace on where-“

“His fifth lair, which is programmed into the suit, and may I advise against this, sir, you should not-“

“Hey, Jarvis, What’s the population of Manhattan?”

“Approximately 1,585,873, sir, but-“

“Well, tell them they owe me. Get the suit ready,” Tony says, and with a blur of machinery, the feet appear out of the floor.

It suits him up faster than usual, and after a few seconds he’s fully suited except for the faceplate.

Dummy and You whir curiously at him, moving forwards slightly.

Tony pats them both on what he would probably call their heads.

“Stay,” Tony orders fondly. “Jarvis, open the skylight. Fuck, shit like this always has to happen when I’m not suicidal. Go figure.”

“What should I tell the Avengers, sir?” Jarvis asks as the ceiling opens floor to floor until the sky is showing.

Tony adjusts one of his gauntlets. “That my last words were _‘yippee kyayee, motherfucker.’”_

“And Steve, sir?”

Right beneath the opening, Tony stops.

“Tell him-“

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smile. “Oh, he knows.”

He flies up and out in a streak of red and gold, and the screen goes blank.

Steve’s mouth is dry.

Clint moves towards Steve. “Cap-“

“Thor, Hulk, crowd control,” Steve snaps. “Everyone else, Quintet, now.”

Steve has adrenaline flaring through his bloodstream like he always does in times like these, so he’s moving quickly, but his frantic limbs seem all too slow as he climbs in the Quintet before Clint, Natasha and Coulson even get to the door.

Natasha grabs a control stick and then they’re flying- jerkily, at first, but then smoothing out- to Dr. Doom’s fifth lair, which is a really shitty abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of New York.

“Try and get Tony on screen again,” Steve says, keeping his voice steady, because he’s Captain America right now, not Steve Rogers, and he doesn’t have time to get involved like this, he has to disassemble the bomb (or whatever the hell it is), his first priority shouldn’t be Tony, seeing Tony breathing, feeling Tony’s lips, rolling over in the morning and having Tony be there like he always is, like he always should be, Tony hating his last name, Tony flipping the bird, Tony fake-smiling through press conferences, Tony ruffled and irritated and indignant and grinning and Tony, Tony, _Tony-_

Natasha says, “Doombots,” and Clint says, “Yeah, I’m not blind,” and starts using the controls to shoot, and Coulson is yelling something at someone through his phone, and Steve feels half-numb, stuck between _Tony you idiot_ and _please don’t let us be too late_ and _I can’t do this without you._

The screen flickers before Tony’s face appears on screen.

“Hey, I’m kinda busy at the moment,” he says.

“Tony,” Steve breathes. “Whatever you’re planning to do, don’t-“

“You have any other alternatives?” Tony’s voice is tinny through the bad reception, and the screen keeps going black. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just knocked out Dr. Doom and I don’t really want to do this with an audience-“

“Two. Minutes. Left.” A monotone computerized voice says somewhere in the background.

“Don’t,” Steve blurts, but the feed cuts out.

They burst in through the roof, crushing a few Doombots on the way in.

Natasha and Clint leap out, making their Doombot body count amount rise into double digits, and there we go, there’s a huge machine a few dozen feet away, and there’s Tony, fuck, no-

He’s holding the arc reactor in one shaking hand, and in the other he has a thick length of cables.

Steve watches in horror as the cables wrap around the arc reactor, and there’s a loud grating noise as currents bolt up the cables and into the heart of the machine they’re attached to.

A voice says, “One. Minute. Le-” before cutting off, along with the light in the machine.

The machine goes dark, and so does the arc reactor.

“No, no, no, fuck, Tony-” Steve is only half aware he’s speaking as he runs full-pelt until his knees hit the ground where Tony is lying.

As Steve hoists Tony’s head into his lap, Tony’s eyes open slightly.

“Hey, Cap,” he slurs sluggishly. “What’s a guy like you doing in… in a place like this?”

“You’re going to be okay,” Steve says, and okay, now his voice is wobbling. “Is the arc rea-“

“Nah, it’s screwed,” Tony says, trying to wave his hand in an uncaring way but failing miserably, seeing as he can’t move his hand at this point. “Make sure people don’t get… get their hands on it.”

“Yeah, of course, absolutely,” Steve babbles. “Don’t close your eyes. Tony, shit, don’t-” He scrabbles for the arc reactor, which is now lying slightly to his left. He slots it into place with shaking hands.

It stays dark.

“Steve,” Natasha says from behind him, and her voice sounds less steady than usual.

“No,” Steve says, half to her and half to the arc reactor, which is still dark, why is it still dark, it can’t be dark, it’s always _light_ \- it’s light, it’s _Tony,_ it’s the only thing that can shove its way through to Steve after a nightmare, it’s comfort in a world 70 years older than he’s used to, it’s his bright grin and loud laugh and scars around his chest and it’s Tony, it’s Tony, who he needs, who needs him, and it feels like it’s him with a hole in his chest instead, fuck, god, _Tony._

Steve bends over ~~the body~~ Tony, trying to sob or vomit or anything, but nothing happens someone is crying behind him and it still stays dark and everything is dark and Steve never wants to see the damn sun again if-

He squeezes his eyes shut and leans down against ~~the body’s~~ Tony’s chest.

Suddenly, there’s a brightness that makes his eyes water.

-

“You were worrieeeeeed.”

Natasha cocks an eyebrow at him. “Bullshit, you pull these kinds of stunts all the ti-“

Tony grins. “Tash, I heard you crying when I woke up.”

Silence.

“…Fuck you.”

Tony grins even wider. “Sorry, I’m taken.”

From beside the hospital bed, Steve says, “Damn right you are.”

Tony turns. “Steve, how nice of y- mphhh.”

Clint manages two steps into the room before clapping a hand over his eyes. “Hey, guys- oh for fuck’s sake, could they not go for five minutes without making out?”

Tony stops kissing Steve to pull the finger at Clint. “Near death experience, Barton, we get a pass.”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve sighs, and pulls him back in, comparing the colour of the fluorescent ceiling lights to the light in Tony’s chest and smiling against Tony’s mouth.


End file.
